Conversations With Jackson
by NDF-hw04
Summary: Jackson Gibbs liked to talk to people. These are some of the conversations he had with various people over the years. Chapters are not arranged chronologically.
1. This Investigator Thing

Characters: Jackson Gibbs, Ed Gantry

Setting: Pre-series, Stillwater, PA

Summary: How did the sheriff and Jackson both know where Gibbs was employed before talking with him on his return to Stillwater in season 6?

Reference: _"Tell me about this investigator thing of yours. We haven't talked since you started it. . . . In fact, we haven't talked since the funeral." _Jackson Gibbs, Heartland (6.04)

* * *

**This Investigator Thing**

Jackson Gibbs wiped down the counter in the Stillwater General Store. Business was slow midweek, giving him time to think. Right now he was thinking about his son. Since adolescence, Leroy had kept his own counsel and Jackson tried to respect that but the radio silence of the past few months was frustrating, to say the least.

Jackson had seen the set of Leroy's jaw at the funeral service. Then, he hadn't known whether to attribute it to held-in grief or barely expressed anger. Jackson felt he ought to be an expert at interpreting Leroy's minimal changes of expressions, but he sometimes thought Leroy actively worked at keeping their relationship like that of a parent to a sullen teenager. Jackson had decided to give Leroy some space for a couple weeks. Since then, every time Jackson called, he got the answering machine and never a return call. He was a fan of talking things out face to face, but he wasn't opposed to using indirect methods if that was all that was available to him. Maybe the small town nature of Stillwater and his own gregariousness could get him at least a one-sided link to his son.

The bell dinged when the door to the general store was pushed open by a young man in a tan uniform, just the person Jackson needed to talk to. He put down his cloth and stepped from behind the counter, greeting the man warmly, "Ed! How're things at the sheriff's office?"

"Pretty quiet mostly." Ed removed his hat and smoothed a hand over his head. "Say, any kids been in here buying soap and toilet paper?" he asked.

"Soap and toilet paper in the same order? Not recently that I recall. That usually happens closer to Halloween. Is that sort of mischief happening now?" Jackson asked the assistant sheriff.

"Yep, yep, you're right. No, no reports, just trying to be proactive a bit."

"Things too quiet, huh?"

Ed sighed, "I'm going a little stir-crazy, yeah."

Jackson gave Ed a measuring look, then rubbed his hand over his chin. "Say, Ed, here now, have a seat. You know my boy, Leroy, is going through a bit of a rough time just now-"

"Yeah, Jackson, I was real sorry to hear about his wife and little girl."

Jackson nodded. "Well, like you'd guess, he's taking it pretty hard and, well, he's kinda gone underground, at least from me. I've tried to give him time, but truth is, I'm starting to worry. I mean I know Leroy shuts himself off from people some, but I get no answer when I call or write . . ."

Ed considered it a sign of just how worried Jackson was that his talking tapered off so suddenly. Ed rubbed his index finger over his upper lip, giving himself a moment to decide if Jackson was indirectly asking him for help, unofficially in his official capacity, as it were. "We-e-ell, Jackson, you know, Leroy and I weren't that good of friends growing up," he offered, to keep the conversation going.

"Aw, Ed, that's more on Leroy than on you, I'm sure."

"Now, Jack, I can't let him take all the blame. We were both fool-enough, young hotheads."

"The point is you're not that fly-off-the-handle kid anymore. You have a position of responsibility and authority here. I was just kinda curious what you can find out, you know, about an old friend?"

"You think Leroy's in some trouble, legally speaking?"

"NO! No, no. I don't think he's gone that far off."

Ed rubbed his upper lip again. "We-e-ell, I guess I could send off some inquiries, but likely all I'll get is negative information. You know, that he hasn't come to the attention of the authorities, stuff like that. Without some justification, I can't push for more than that. You thought at all about hiring a PI?"

"Eh, that probably wouldn't go over too well with my son if he found out, but I just thought that maybe . . ."

Ed took pity on Jackson. "I'll see what I can find out without stirring things up too much, okay? Then you can decide where to go from there. Just don't expect too much, okay?"

"Thanks, Ed. It would ease my mind considerably."

Ed's walkie-talkie squawked, so he waved at Jackson as he brought the instrument up to his mouth and exited the store.

Jackson watched Ed get into his police cruiser. He gave a heavy sigh and turned to look around the store for what areas needed his attention. He found himself looking at Leroy's dress blues portrait that he'd proudly hung on the wall all those years before. He studied it, seeing both himself and Leroy's mother in his son's features, seeing the child he remembered on the verge of becoming a man. He addressed the portrait, "Son, if you were here, I'd tell you how sorry I am about your family, about Shannon and Kelly. I treasured them, too. I just hope that you'll remember you still have family here. Stillwater will always be your home. Please remember that."

Jackson fingered the frame around the portrait and frowned when he saw his finger come away with grime on it. The other photographs and frames hanging in the store were probably dusty, too. Jackson went to collect his cleaning supplies. A home was made in part from the memories it held and those memories should be kept and cared for, not left to gather dust. He needed to make sure his home was ready for his son's return. That, at least, was something Jackson could do.


	2. The Storm Cellar

Characters: Jackson Gibbs, Jethro Gibbs

Setting: The day before the final Stillwater scene in Episode 8.01, Spider and the Fly

Summary: Jackson and Jethro have time together after the return to Stillwater.

Reference: _"When this is over, why don't you come back to Stillwater with me, help me fix up the store? It's all boarded up. I could use an extra hand." _ Jackson Gibbs, Spider and the Fly (8.01)

* * *

**The Storm Cellar**

The yellow Challenger slowed to a stop in front of the boarded-up Stillwater General Store. Gibbs and his dad sat a moment and simply looked at the building. Then Jackson unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the car door, saying, "Store's not going to clean itself. Might as well get moving."

"Dad, we just got in. Don't you want to sit down, get a glass of water or something?" his son asked.

"I've been sitting, Jethro. Getting the blood circulating will do me some good. Getting the store open again will do the town some good."

Gibbs tilted his head in acknowledgement of this logic. His dad had never been one to procrastinate when there was work to be done. By the time Gibbs got to the door of the building, Jackson had already unlocked it, turned the store lights on, and headed for the broom he kept leaning against the wall behind the counter. Gibbs stopped just inside the door, seeing for the first time the destruction Paloma's men had unleashed. He hadn't given much thought as to what the store might look like. "Dad. This, this, you-" Gibbs couldn't say any more.

Jackson leaned on the broom handle. "Son, I had my Winchester and the storm cellar. You warned me and I was ready for her. I'm fine and the rest of this is just stuff. Stuff can be replaced."

"Yeah, but," Gibbs started. Then he stopped, shook his head, went behind the counter to get the box of trash bags and went on more quietly, "Lucky you had that storm cellar."

"That wasn't luck. We put in that storm cellar specifically so our family could weather any storm."

Father and son started putting things right. They worked for several hours, clearing out what was beyond repair and figuring what supplies they would need to fix the things that were salvageable. When Jackson decided they'd done enough for a day's work, he sent Jethro to get the cooler out of the car and they made sandwiches for an easy supper. Afterward, they settled in Jackson's living room, the television with the ball game on low volume in the background.

Jethro broke their quiet contemplation, saying, "Dad, remind me about the storm cellar."

"Eh, what about it?"

"Well, why's it there? Why'd you and Mom decide we needed one?"

"Oh, let's see." Jackson thought for a moment then continued, "I guess there were a couple reasons. First, we had one out on the farm, so I was used to having one. You remember that? Your grandfather's storm cellar?"

"Mm-hm. He used it mostly for storing his hooch as I recall," Jethro said.

"You recall better than I thought you would. He thought he was hiding it from my mom that way."

"Grandma let him think that." Jethro laughed.

"Jackson joined in the laughter, adding, "She was nobody's fool, your grandma. Your mom was like her in a lot of ways."

"Yeah," Jethro said quietly.

Jackson continued explaining about the storm cellar. "And that was the other reason, your mom. She thought we should have one. There had been bad storms before, farther west in the state. Many years before, but the storms were real bad. Your mom knew some people from that area. In the spring they'd get nervous whenever a thunderstorm rolled in."

"She never talked to me about that."

"You thought storms were a big adventure. I guess she didn't want you to lose that sense of wonder."

Jethro nodded, "Sounds like Mom."

The two men were quiet for a few minutes. Then Jackson spoke, "You know your mom's favorite movie? _The Wizard of Oz_. We'd watch it every year when they'd show it on television. She'd plan for it."

"I remember. It was a big event for her."

"You remember there's a storm cellar at the beginning of the movie? Dorothy can't get in it during the storm?"

"Yeah. That's right."

"I think that movie is another reason your mom wanted us to have a storm cellar. She loved that story so much. Our having a storm cellar was a connection to it for her."

Jethro didn't respond immediately, but after a minute he turned from the television to look at his dad. "Well, whatever reason, I'm glad you had it," he told Jackson.

"Me too, Son, me too." Jackson pulled the lever that raised the footrest on his recliner, leaned back, and tapped his heels together, grinning. "There's no place like home," he recited.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who has encouraged me about these stories. I appreciate it.


	3. Good Kid, Little Reckless

Characters: Jackson Gibbs, Ethan LaCombe

Setting: circa 2002, Stillwater, PA

Reference: _"I had a few beers with Ethan LaCombe. . . . Good kid. Little reckless." _Jackson Gibbs, Heartland (6.04)

* * *

**Good Kid, Little Reckless**

Jackson Gibbs was slowly making his way over to the door of his general store when it swung inward. "We're just closing up, young man, but if you need something quick, I can wait a few minutes," he said to the incoming customer.

"Mr. Gibbs. Uh ..." The young man looked around as if unsure what he needed.

Jackson looked at him more closely. "Ethan? Ethan LaCombe, is that you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Jack, not 'sir,' you know that. How've you ... How long ... What do you need, son?" Jackson knew he'd fumbled the greeting, but he smiled warmly at Ethan to make up for it.

Ethan grinned back, showing he didn't take offense at the awkward greeting. "Just got out of juvie a couple days ago. My aunt picked me up. It, well, it was okay. I'm done, at least." Ethan answered the unfinished questions, then shrugged and looked around. "I'm just getting out of the house because I can, I guess. Don't really need nothing," he paused, then continued, "if you need to close."

"Tell you what, why don't you come in, wet your whistle? We can catch up. I keep some on ice for after work."

Ethan grinned his okay and let go of the door, stepping fully into the store. Jackson turned the sign on the door to 'Closed' and walked over to the ice chest. He reached in and pulled out a couple bottles. "This is from my personal supply, so if you have one, it's okay. As long as you're not driving anywhere later," Jackson said, giving Ethan a serious look as he handed off one of the bottles.

"Don't have a car," Ethan replied and pried the cap off.

"Okay then." Jackson led the young man over to the table, where they sat.

"So, staying with your aunt. You have plans?" Jackson asked his guest. Then he grunted a sigh when he realized he hadn't opened his own beer.

"I'll get it," Ethan said, hopping up and taking the bottle back over to the opener attached to the ice chest. He came back to the table, handed the beer to Jack and, dropping the bottle cap in the center of the table, sat down and picked up his own bottle.

Jackson nodded his thanks and took a sip. "So where were we? Oh, right, plans." He looked expectantly at Ethan.

Ethan also took a sip, then rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth. "Nothing definite," he answered, "but I don't think I can stay around here."

"Your aunt?" Jackson asked.

"No, no, she's cool. It's just, you know, Mr. Winslow and all." Ethan's eyes dropped to the beer bottle he'd set on the table. He reached out and began to rotate it, staring at the label. His shoulders drooped a bit.

"Ah, Chuck Winslow. Well, you're not the first person in Stillwater who doesn't see eye to eye with him."

Ethan looked up at Jackson but didn't say anything, simply pressed his lips together. Finally, he picked up his beer bottle and took a swig. Jackson had learned to have patience with taciturn young men, so he leaned back and waited.

After a few swigs, Ethan set the bottle down and looked back at Jackson, "Just doesn't seem like there's a lot here for me."

"Emily, you mean?"

"I don't want to cause any problems for her with her dad or Nick."

"And you think that peaceful coexistence with them isn't likely to happen?" Jackson asked the question, but he was already sure of the answer based on his own observation of town dynamics.

Ethan shook his head slightly. "Didn't before," he said.

Jackson nodded, looking speculatively at the young man. "You're looking to find somewhere to make a fresh start then." He took another sip of beer. "What about education?"

"I finished all the coursework for a high school diploma in juvie, so the high school agreed to issue me one," Ethan answered. He glanced over at the books lining the shelves in the front window of the general store and continued, "I can't see sitting in a classroom long enough for college, though."

"It's not for everyone," Jackson agreed. "The usual tickets are education, experience, or personal recommendation. Once you decide what you want to do, then you figure out which of those will get you there."

"Yeah, I guess, but it's the deciding part I'm having trouble with."

Jackson leaned forward in his chair. "I'm going to tell you a story. There was another man once, about your age, who wanted to get out of the small town where he grew up." Jackson paused his tale to take a sip.

"I thought you grew up here," Ethan said, joining Jackson in tipping the bottle.

"I did. My family was on the farm. I left for the war, that's World War Two to most young folks, but then I came back and got married, settled down here." Jackson looked into Ethan's eyes. "Stillwater is a place I love. This story isn't about me. It's about my boy."

Ethan looked back at Jackson silently for a moment, then nodded his understanding.

Jackson continued, "Like I said, he was about your age and he wanted more for himself than he thought Stillwater could offer. Or maybe it was more than he thought I could offer. Something different, at any rate. He and Chuck Winslow never got along too well, either. That might've contributed. His way out was to join the military. Didn't ask my opinion, just went to see the recruiter on his own, signed up, came back and let me know when he'd be leaving." Jackson sat back, lost in the memory for a minute. Then he shook his head and continued, "It worked out pretty well for Leroy, getting him out to see other places, have experiences, get to be a part of something he didn't think he could find here. Maybe you'd be interested in that?"

"Maybe," Ethan said, not too confidently.

"Leroy joined the Marines. After he left, I went to see his recruiter, talked to him a few times. He's retired but I know Charlie who runs the office now. He's a good man."

Ethan took a long swig from his bottle, emptying it, and set it down, looking uncomfortable.

Jackson shook his head. "I'm not trying to recruit you or tell you what to do, but there are people here you can talk to. You don't need to figure everything out all by yourself. I just want you to know that. You're not alone."

At that, Ethan's shoulders relaxed from their hunched position and Ethan leaned back from the table. "Yeah, okay," he told Jackson. "I appreciate that. I know I have a lot of thinking to do. Maybe I could come back and talk to you again in a couple days?"

"I'd like that," Jackson told him. "We could have another beer after work."

Ethan got up from the table. "As long as I don't drive," he added, grinning. He cleared off the table, taking the bottles over to the recycling bin and throwing the caps in the trash.

Jackson was a bit slower getting out of his chair. He followed Ethan over to the door. "Don't be a stranger," he called as Ethan made his way out of the store. Jackson watched through the window as Ethan crossed the street. He remembered watching a different young man crossing the street on a day in 1976.

* * *

_Jackson looked at the bag sitting by the door with the train ticket sitting on top of it. "Leroy, why'd you do it? Why'd you sign, son?"_

_"Dad, it's done."_

_"You know, around here, you don't want to listen to anything I say. In the Marines, you're going to be taking orders all the time."_

_"I know."_

_Jackson shook his head. "Well, I'm just not sure you'll be that good at taking orders and you could get into some trouble with that in the military."_

_"Chuck Winslow won't be my DI."_

_Jackson gave his son a sharp look. "Is that what this is about? Your grudge with Chuck Winslow?"_

_Leroy looked away. "No. Not really."_

_"Chuck's a little rough around the edges now, but he'll get his seasoning. Some day he's going to be a big man in this town, the boss of a lot of people."_

_Leroy looked back at his father. "Not me."_

_Before Jackson could decide on more advice to impart, Leroy thrust out his hand, "Dad, gotta go."_

_Jackson closed the distance between them and pulled his son into a hug. He stepped back and offered, "You want some company at the station?"_

_"__Nah, that's okay."_

_Leroy slung the bag over his shoulder and started his walk to the train station. His dad called from behind him, "Be sure to write when you get there."_

_Without looking back, Leroy raised his arm in acknowledgement. He brought his hand back down and tapped the ticket he held against his thigh a couple times in a release of nervous energy. Jackson watched until his son walked out of sight, trying to figure out what had happened to the little boy who liked to sail boats with his dad._

* * *

Ethan turned the corner and Jackson turned the deadbolt and stepped back from the door. "I'll talk to you but I'll also listen," he promised in the empty store.


	4. Cooking For Jethro

Characters: Jackson Gibbs and Tobias Fornell, with a cameo by Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Setting: Post-season 7, pre-season 8, Alexandria, VA

Summary: Jackson has a visitor while he is living under lock and key at Jethro's house.

Reference: _"You hungry? You call your old man, tell him you're okay?"_ Tobias Fornell, Extreme Prejudice (10.01)

* * *

**Cooking For Jethro**

Tobias Fornell opened the heavy wooden door with the round glass inset. "Jethro," he called out, entering the house, "your agents confiscated my weapon. What ..." He trailed off as he came face to face with an unexpected occupant. "Uh, hello," he said to the older man. "Where's Jethro?"

"Taking a shower. Who might you be?"

"Oh, sorry. Tobias Fornell." Fornell extended his hand.

"Jackson Gibbs," responded the other man, shaking Fornell's hand. "Are you a friend of Jethro's?"

Fornell didn't look too enthusiastic about the answer. "Yeah," he allowed and asked in turn, "Father?"

"There's a family resemblance. Isn't there?" Jackson replied.

"I think you talk more," Fornell told him, with a smile.

"That wouldn't be too hard." Jackson smiled back. "Since you're unarmed, you want some breakfast? We have a strict no-weapons policy at mealtimes."

"Is the cooking that bad?"

"You are a friend of Jethro's, I see," Jackson said with a bit of a glare.

Fornell nodded. "He has rubbed off on me a bit, sorry. What's on the menu?" He took a few steps toward the kitchen, sniffing. "Eggs," he answered for himself, when he saw the carton.

Jackson nodded. "Omelets. A family recipe."

"I'll stay," Tobias offered, as if he were doing Jackson a favor. "Need any help?"

Jackson pointed to the table. "Sit," he said. "It's a family recipe."

Jackson was heading to the stove and Fornell was taking a seat at the table when Gibbs came down the stairs, folding up his phone and pocketing it. "Dad, gotta go. Case," he said. Then he saw Fornell. "Need something, Tobias?" he asked as he went to the gun safe and got his weapon.

Tobias answered, "It can wait. I'll catch you another time."

Jackson turned back. "Jethro, you need to eat something," he told his son, sounding frustrated.

"I will, Dad, later," Jethro said. "Don't go anywhere without the agents. I'll call this afternoon." Then he went out the door.

Jackson watched through the door as his son descended the steps, then turned to Fornell. "No sense the rest of us going hungry, too. It'll only take a couple minutes."

Fornell nodded. Jackson went back to the kitchen. For a few minutes, the only sound in the house was of breakfast being cooked. When Fornell heard dishes clattering, he got up and helped Jackson carry things to the table. "Looks good," he said, sitting down.

"See what you think after you taste it," Jackson replied.

Tobias took a bite, then another, and moaned in delight before quickly finishing his omelet. "What's it take to get adopted into this family?" he asked.

Jackson smiled but then sobered. "This family's not the safest at the moment."

"The agents posted outside clued me in that this wasn't a simple family visit," Tobias said. "What's going on?"

"Eh," Jackson hesitated.

"I'm FBI," Tobias told him. "The beard's just for an undercover thing I'm doing now."

"That you can't talk about?" Jackson asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, yeah." Tobias gave a small shrug. "Not that interesting anyway."

"I see why you and Jethro are friends," Jackson said. "I'm here because of threats to Jethro and me from Mexican drug dealers. A case got personal."

Tobias was quiet for a moment, processing the information. "Jethro has good people working for him. They'll take care of you. And the drug dealers," he assured Jackson.

"I appreciate that," Jackson said. "The bad side of this is the disruption to my life and the good people who are put in danger," he paused and looked at Tobias for a moment, "but the good side is spending time with my son and getting to know him better and to meet his friends."

Tobias was amused by the realization, "You're telling me you want a story!"

"I did feed you," Jackson pointed out. "How do you two know each other?"

Tobias thought better of mentioning shared ex-wives. It was too early in the morning to start thinking about Diane. Instead he said, "Work."

Jackson waited.

"There are jurisdictional issues sometimes and our agencies need to coordinate. Our bosses have found that we work well together." Tobias rattled this off, knowing he wasn't saying the sort of thing Jackson was looking for. He couldn't seem to help himself, though, in trying to move as far from the topic of Diane as possible.

"That what you came by for this morning? Jurisdictional issues?" Jackson asked mildly.

"Oh, no," Tobias said. "I wanted to ask Jethro about borrowing his car." He started to relax again.

"For work?" Jackson was baiting him.

Tobias smiled in response. "No, for Emily. My daughter. The community center is putting on a party for the kids and the theme is the 1970s." He paused, looking at Jackson. "I don't know who thought that was a good idea."

"Eh. The seventies weren't all bad," Jackson said.

Tobias continued with his explanation, "I thought it might be fun for her to be dropped off in the Challenger."

"Sounds good," Jackson said. "What do you know about the car?"

"I know the restoration job took a while."

"Over twenty years," Jackson confirmed.

"Waiting for parts?" Tobias asked.

"Waiting. Mostly waiting," Jackson said. "In the end, it all worked out, though."

"It sure did. Your patience was rewarded," Tobias said. Then he pushed back his chair and stood up. "Since you cooked, I'll do the washing up."

"Sounds fair," Jackson agreed.

The two men carried the dishes into the kitchen and together made short work of the cleaning up. Tobias hung up the dish towel and turned to Jackson. "Thank you for breakfast," he said. "I think I might dream of that omelet."

Jackson nodded in reply, then followed Tobias to the front door. As Tobias was opening the door, Jackson told him, "Come back again when you've thought of a story it's safe for you to tell me. I'll teach you the secret to those omelets."

Tobias shook his head, grinning. "That might just be considered bribery of a federal official," he said, walking out the door.

* * *

**Author's Note:** This chapter was not inspired by something Jackson Gibbs said in an episode, making it different from the earlier chapters. Rather, it came about because after the season 11 finale, I felt the need to write a Gibbs and Fornell episode tag. In the process of writing that tag, I realized that surely Fornell would have met Jackson during the time period we see here. This chapter is now the back story to that tag. (See Chapter 1 of _Old Men Sit on Benches_.)


	5. Sunday Phone Calls

Characters: Jackson Gibbs, Jethro Gibbs

Setting: After Episode 9.14 Life Before His Eyes

References: _"__Well, I know you hate it when I use a hundred words when a couple will do. But give us a call sometime.__" _Jackson Gibbs, Heartland (6.04)

_"It's not Sunday. Everything all right?" _Jackson Gibbs, The Namesake (10.05)

* * *

**Sunday Phone Calls**

Gibbs picked his phone up from the side table and flopped onto the couch. He dialed and waited for the call to be answered. "Hey, Dad," he said.

"Jethro," replied his father, sounding happily surprised. After a pause, he asked, "Need something?"

"No. I, I was just thinking about you," Gibbs said.

"Good thoughts I hope." Jackson chuckled. "Care to share?"

"Well, we had a case," Gibbs said. He didn't add,_ I almost shot a kid like you did a couple of years ago at the store._

"Okay," Jackson said and did not press the matter.

"Just thought I'd see how you're doing," Gibbs said.

"I was reading the newspaper this morning. Seems like most of the groundhogs around here are predicting an early spring. That will be nice for these old bones. Cold weather can get a little tiresome." Jackson paused to take a breath.

"Uh huh," Gibbs threw in to show he was listening.

"Of course, you can't always believe what you read in the newspaper. They're not always accurate with their predictions."

Gibbs agreed, "No, you're right. They're not."

"Still it will be nice if it comes true. Get more people coming into the store when the weather's not so bad. I'm so glad you called, son. Stay warm."

"Okay, Dad. Well, good talking to you."

Jackson said goodbye and hung up the phone. He turned to his houseguest, "That was my son, Leroy. He had a rough week at work. He likes to talk about the weather."

* * *

_One week later._

Jackson Gibbs picked up the ringing phone. "Hello?" he said into it.

"Dad," came the response.

"Son. Everything all right?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, yeah, fine. Thought I'd call."

"That's two Sundays in a row. Do you want to listen to me talk about the weather again?" Jackson asked.

"If you want."

"Eh. Not particularly. I can do that any day of the week at the store. Maybe you've got a topic of conversation?"

"Well, you know, just calling. See how you're doing," Jethro said.

"Same as last week, pretty much. Let's see. Oh, we got some new fancy birdseed in at the store a couple of days ago," Jackson told him.

"Yeah? You put the feeders up in the backyard yet?" Jethro asked.

"Not yet. Soon. Remember how keeping them filled was your job as a boy?"

"I remember. Keeping them looking good, painted and all, was your job."

"Yep. I've been working on getting them in shape. Your grandpa started it with building them, remember? It was his hobby when he retired," Jackson said.

"Yeah, I remember." Jethro paused, then continued the conversation, "You told me caring for birds was a coal mining family's duty and privilege."

"You remember that? That was a long time ago," Jackson said.

"I remember. You had to explain it to me, both the duty and privilege parts," Jethro said.

"Responsibilities are an important thing for a boy to learn."

"So you always said."

"Well, looking at how you turned out, I guess it didn't do you any harm," Jackson said.

"Except for the time I fell off the ladder and injured my wrist," Jethro said wryly.

"I'd forgotten about that."

"I lived. Learned to be more careful with the ladder."

"It got you out of chores for a while, too," Jackson recalled.

"And Mom baked me a pie," Jethro added.

"I'm surprised you didn't fall off the ladder again, as much as you liked your mom's pies," Jackson joked.

"Nah, there were a lot less painful ways to get Mom to bake a pie."

"That's something else you were good at," Jackson said agreeably.

They both chuckled and enjoyed a moment of companionable silence. Then Jackson told Jethro to stay safe and to be careful around ladders.

"I will, Dad," Jethro said.

"Good, 'cause my pies are not as good as your mom's."

"You take care, too, Dad."

"I will, son. Talk to you next Sunday?"

Yeah. Yeah, Dad. I enjoyed it," Jethro said seriously.

Jackson hung up his phone and smiled. He was already looking forward to next Sunday and getting to have another conversation with his son.


	6. Who Is This Tony?

Characters: Jackson Gibbs and Tony DiNozzo, with a Gibbs cameo

Setting: Stillwater General Store, near the end of Episode 6.04, Heartland

Summary: Tony and Jackson have a chance to chat.

* * *

**Who Is This Tony?**

Jackson Gibbs had gotten to his general store a bit earlier than usual. The past two days had been eventful, with unexpected visitors and unplanned trips, both around town and down memory lane. Jackson was glad he'd gotten to see his son and hoped they had mended some of the rift in their relationship. Leroy would be heading out, back to D.C., this morning and Jackson needed to get back to the business of running his store. Leroy's team would be arriving at some point to pack up all their equipment and files. Then they'd say goodbye and Stillwater, Jackson hoped, could go back to being the peaceful little town he cherished.

Jackson heard the bell ring, signaling that the door had been opened. He made his way out of the merchandise aisle to see that the visitor was that Tony fellow who worked with Leroy.

"Hi there. Where's Boss?" Tony asked when he spotted Jackson.

"Boss? You mean Leroy?" Jackson questioned.

"Right. Gibbs. Your son," Tony clarified.

"He's over meeting with Ed, the sheriff. They had some things to talk about." Jackson continued walking over to the counter and put down his notebook and pencil. He turned back to face Tony. "Why do you call him that? Boss?"

"Well, who's the boss?" Tony grinned at Jackson and shrugged. "He is. Not Judith Light. Certainly not Tony Danza. He doesn't like being called sir, so sometimes 'Boss' is just easiest."

"Huh," Jackson grunted. "I never saw Leroy becoming a boss."

Tony saw his chance. He had hoped that by getting to the general store early he could talk to Gibbs' father. "What did you see him becoming?" he asked Jackson.

"I saw him as my boy. Maybe that was our problem. I just thought of him as my son." Jackson shook his head. "Well, no matter. He did fine by himself, it seems. Can I get you something, breakfast, coffee?"

"Do you have any hazelnut creamer?" Tony asked.

"Some of the ladies in town like it. There should be some over by the coffeepot." Jackson gestured toward the coffee station.

Tony wasted no time in adjusting a mug of coffee to his taste. As he took the first sip, he turned back to Jack. "I must be early," he said, apologetically.

"Early is good in my books," Jackson assured him. "If you want something to do, I'm sure I could find you something, though."

Tony winced a bit but then put on what he hoped was a brave face. Working together might mean talking together. "As long as it's not moving furniture, okay. Uh, I mean, sure. What do you need, Jack?" he said.

"Some of the shelves need restocking. I made a list of what I need to get out of the back." Jackson held up the notebook.

After a fortifying swallow from his mug, Tony put it down and followed Jack to the storeroom. Jack got a box and they set about filling it with the items on the list. As they worked, Jackson began singing softly, "Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight? Come out tonight, come out tonight? Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight."

Tony came up to him carrying some bottles of lotion and boxes of bandages and, as he put them in the box, he joined in with Jackson, "And dance by the light of the moon."

He and Jackson grinned at each other. "Not many young people would know that song," Jackson said, looking at Tony approvingly.

"Oh, well, it's in a movie I like and, you know, it's just the kind of song that sticks in your head," Tony said, brushing off any credit for the knowledge.

"That movie happen to be _It's a Wonderful Life_?" Jackson asked, raising an eyebrow.

That made Tony, in turn, look at Jackson approvingly. "Good catch," he said.

"Eh, it's been on TV once or twice," Jackson answered. "Did you know that Jimmy Stewart was from here in Pennsylvania?"

"No, I don't think I did," Tony answered.

"Well, now you do," Jackson said. Then he looked down at his notebook. "I think that's the last of the list. Course, I haven't finished with all of the shelves, but let's go ahead and get these things out there," he told Tony.

Tony grabbed the box and carried it out to the front, where he put it on the counter. Jackson directed Tony to where each of the items belonged while he started sorting out the newspaper rack. On one of the trips between shelf and counter, Tony stopped to look at Jackson's wall of framed photographs. "Say, Jack," he said, tapping one of the frames, "did you serve in the Air Force?"

"It wasn't the Air Force then. It was the Army Air Forces, during World War II," Jackson told him. Jackson came over to stand next to Tony, looking at the picture.

Tony looked at Jackson. "Did you serve in Europe or the Pacific?" he asked.

"It was Europe," Jackson answered. "Didn't get to see too much of it up close, though." Jackson nodded his head at the plane in the photograph.

"A few years ago I met someone who was in infantry on Iwo Jima. I don't think his tour package was the best, either," Tony offered.

"Those boys on Iwo had their work cut out for them. That's for sure." Jackson nodded.

"I'll never forget something he told me. He said the real heroes never came back," Tony said.

"Certainly some of them didn't. It doesn't take dying to be a hero, though. Take your team. You all watch out for each other, protect each other, right?" Jackson turned to look directly at Tony.

"Yeah, that's just doing our job, though." Tony shrugged.

"Someone can be a hero just doing their job sometimes. You're a hero to me," Jackson said.

Tony gave him a look of disbelief.

"You keep my son safe. ... As safe as anyone in his job can be, at least," Jackson explained.

"He doesn't get shot at on a _daily_ basis," Tony tried to joke.

"That's good to know," Jackson returned drily. "It eases my mind a bit to have met all of you, though, to know who's watching Leroy's six." Jackson put his hand on Tony's shoulder for a moment then walked back over to the counter.

"Say, Jack, about Leroy," Tony began, but at that moment the bell over the door rang.

The two men looked over to see Gibbs and the others walking into the store.

"We leave in ten," Gibbs said. "Get that stuff loaded in the car." He tilted his head at the table laden with files and Abby's equipment.

Abby, Ziva, and Tim turned and got to work, but Jackson grabbed Tony before he could join them. "Just a second there, Tony. It's chilly out this morning. Where's that jacket you had yesterday?" Jackson asked.

"Oh," Tony said, caught a bit off-guard, "well, it doesn't sit right over this shirt. It turns out my go-bag wasn't ready for going after all, you see."

"Uh huh," Jackson said. "Wait here. I've got just what you need." Jackson picked up his pen and wrote something on a notepad, then tore the sheet out and folded it. He went behind the counter, lifted his sweater off the hook, and tucked the paper into one of the pockets. He held the sweater out to Tony. "Try this on," he said.

"Oh, Jack," Tony started to protest, shaking his head, but at Jack's look, he acquiesced. "All right, sure," he finished, taking the sweater and putting it on.

Jackson leaned closer to Tony and, while adjusting the sleeve of the sweater, said quietly, "My phone number, in the pocket. In case you ever need to call."

Jackson and Tony exchanged a look of understanding.

Gibbs barked, "DiNozzo, if you're through playing dress up!"

Tony straightened his shoulders and called out, "All set, Boss!"

Jackson and Tony made their way over to where Gibbs was standing near the door. Then the three men walked out of the store to see the sun shining on a new day.

* * *

**Author's Note:** After thinking about Tony's interactions with both Ernie Yost and Mrs. Mallard, I decided I wanted to see a bit more of him with Jackson. This setting seemed like the best time for them to have a conversation.


	7. Being There

Characters: Jackson Gibbs, Jethro Gibbs

Setting: After Episode 8.07 Broken Arrow, when Tony's dad was in town

Summary: Jackson is back in Stillwater after the months he spent in D.C.

* * *

**Being There**

Jackson Gibbs opened the cupboard above his stove and reached into it. The phone rang, interrupting his snack preparations. He grunted and slowly made his way over to the table by his recliner to pick up the phone. "Jackson," he answered it.

"Dad, how you doing?" asked his son.

"I'm okay, was just about to have a glass of milk," Jackson replied.

"A few cookies, too," Jethro said knowingly.

"Maybe a couple," Jackson admitted. "Did something happen, son?"

"Dad, something didn't have to happen for me to call," his son replied.

"You're right," Jackson said. "You don't need a reason to talk to your old man."

"I've just been thinking. Thought it would be good if we talk more often," Jethro said.

"I'd like that, son. The evenings in the house here do seem a little quieter since coming back from D.C.," Jackson said. "Not that I'm not glad to be back," he hastily added.

"Yeah, I know. How's the store doing?" Jethro asked.

"Things are about back to the usual. People are happy that the store's open again and they don't have such a long trip to do their shopping."

"That's good. The building okay?"

"It's fine. You do good work. You know that. The county inspectors approved everything before we could reopen," Jackson said.

"Yeah, I know. I just, I wish you hadn't had all that expense," Jethro said.

"No need for you to worry. Insurance took care of most of it. That's what insurance is for."

"For getting your store shot up," Jethro quipped.

"No, for taking care of family. So business problems don't cause family problems," Jackson said seriously. "Don't worry about it, son. The store is in better shape than it's been in years."

"Okay, Dad. I'm glad," Jethro told him.

"So, what about you? Anything new with your team these days? NCIS keeping you busy?" Jackson asked.

"Death doesn't take a holiday," Jethro quoted. He sighed, then offered, "Tony's dad came to visit."

"Oh, did you meet him? Is he a lot like Tony?"

"There's a family resemblance," Jethro said.

"So he must be a good looking man," Jackson concluded. "Probably has a lot of stories of Tony as a boy, too."

"Didn't hear any."

"Ah, well, you don't always want me telling stories about you, either," Jackson said with a chuckle.

"That was a long time ago."

"Are you saying I might not remember things that far back?" Jackson let just a hint of sharpness slip into his tone.

"Not what I meant, Dad. Just that not all stories have to be told," Jethro said in a conciliatory manner.

'I hear you, son. The past is the past, but some of it is worth remembering, you know?"

"I haven't forgotten," Jethro answered.

Jackson laughed a bit. "You always did have a knack for keeping track of things, paying attention to details," he said. "Guess that's why you're an investigator now."

"You're the one who showed me how to look, how to put things together."

"I don't know about that. Don't remember teaching you much of anything."

"Ah, Dad, it was just part of daily living for you," Jethro told him. "No special effort. Just be there and set the example."

"If you say so, son. I guess you're right that it was a long time ago."

"And you're right that it's good to remember. Any plans for Thanksgiving?" Jethro asked.

"If the weather holds, Charlie and I are gonna go fishing."

"Maybe you'd better go ahead and get a turkey anyway," Jethro said drily.

"Good thing you didn't go into comedy, Jethro. That's not as funny as you think it is," Jackson said. After a pause, he added, "There's a dinner at the Legion Hall we're gonna go to after we get our catch put up. No one goes hungry around here."

"Yeah, Dad, you always made sure we were taken care of. I don't just mean food on the table, either. You were there and I know it wasn't always easy to be," Jethro admitted.

"I wasn't perfect," Jackson said.

"Neither am I. No one is, Dad," Jethro said. "I didn't get it then."

"Like you said, that was the past, a long time ago," Jackson told him.

"Okay, Dad, have a good fishing trip," Jethro said.

"If the weather holds, we will," Jackson said agreeably. "I'll tell you all about it the next time you call."

"I'm looking forward to it," Jethro said.

Jackson said good-bye to his son and put the receiver back in the cradle. He went back to the cupboard and got down the chocolate chip cookies. They had always been Jethro's favorite. He'd have to eat an extra cookie tonight in Jethro's honor.


	8. Just Like Me

Characters: Jackson Gibbs, Leroy Jethro Gibbs

Setting: This takes place near the end of Episode 7.10 Faith, when Jackson is visiting his son at Christmas time, after Jackson and his son have their conversation about what's been bothering Jackson.

Summary: Jackson and his son work on toys and maybe something more.

Reference: _"It's not the first time I killed somebody, either. But it's the first time I saw the face. Twenty-three. Had a kid, somebody told me." _Jackson Gibbs, Faith (7.10)

* * *

**Just Like Me**

Gibbs and his dad finished their beers, each alone with his thoughts. The silent camaraderie was sufficient for the two men now. Jackson put his empty bottle on the table and Gibbs got up to take it into the kitchen. Coming back, he asked about the toy project he'd left for Jackson, "You make any headway in the basement?"

Jackson turned to look at him. "Some," he said. "I wasn't sure what colors to use on some of them. If you want, you could show me what you had in mind."

Gibbs nodded. "We've still got time tonight if you're not too tired," he said.

Jackson grunted and started to get up from the couch. "I'm not that old yet that one beer will put me to sleep."

Gibbs led the way down the stairs. He stopped at the bottom, assessing the worktable. "Looks good, Dad," he said.

Jackson finished descending the stairs. "Eh, the important thing is organization," he said. He pointed at different sections of the table and said, "These are drying. Those are ready for painting, and these here need to be sanded first."

Gibbs moved to where the toys requiring the most work were laid out. "Think I'll sand tonight," he said, picking up a piece of sandpaper.

"That sounds good," Jackson said, moving next to his son. "After those first ones dry, we can move 'em and have more room for painting," he added.

Jackson leaned in front of his son to get some sandpaper. He paused, looking at the hand running over the wood, feeling for rough spots. "Leroy, what did you do to your finger there?" he asked, pointing at a scar on the right index finger.

Gibbs jerked his head dismissively. "Work injury," he said.

"Not woodwork," Jackson said quietly.

Gibbs simply shook his head.

"Not easy to talk about, is it, son?" Jackson said, starting to sand a toy.

"It's just my job, Dad," Gibbs replied.

"Job that's got you making toys to settle your mind."

"Kids should have toys at Christmas," Gibbs said.

"How many years you been doing this?" Jackson asked, looking up from his work.

"Since last year," Gibbs answered, rubbing the scar on his finger.

Jackson frowned at his son a moment, then went back to sanding. "Kids should have toys at Christmas," he repeated. "Kids in Pennsylvania, too, I guess. Well, I can start next year."

* * *

**Note:** You get bonus points if you know how Gibbs got his scar and why I chose the title.


	9. Just Do Good Work

Characters: Jackson Gibbs, Cal Frazier

Setting: Stillwater, PA, sometime after Episode 11.07, Better Angels

Summary: How Cal and Jackson met

Reference: _"I want you to take the store. It's yours. It's what Dad would have wanted."_ Leroy Jethro Gibbs, Honor Thy Father (11.24)

* * *

**Just Do Good Work**

Jackson Gibbs looked up from his morning coffee and newspaper when he heard rapping on the door of his general store. He couldn't see who it was through the plate glass window, so he got up and made his way over to the door. Jackson carefully opened the door a crack and peered out through the opening. The young man standing there was not one he recognized.

"Need something?" Jackson asked. "We're not open yet."

"You see, my car's overheating and I'm looking for some water for my radiator," the young man said, holding up a dirty red plastic gas can. "You were the only place I saw with lights on."

"Eh, yeah, it's early," Jackson said, taking another good look at the man. After a moment of consideration, he opened the door wider. "Come on in," he said.

"Thanks, mister ..." the young man said, following Jackson over to the table where he'd been drinking his coffee.

"Gibbs. Call me Jackson. And you are?" Jackson said.

"Cal. Like I said, I'm just looking for some water," Cal said.

Jackson was hesitant. He said, "Yeah, well, that gas can probably has residue. That won't do your radiator any good. Just adding water probably wouldn't help it for very long either. Tell you what. I'll come take a look at it."

Looking skeptical, Cal replied, "Well, uh, it's parked up the street a ways. The needle was really in the red and I was hoping I'd find some water. I didn't think I'd have to walk this far."

"Look here! I may be old and I won't win a footrace with you, but I can manage to walk down the street just fine, don't you worry." Jackson said sharply. He picked up his cane and his keys and then gestured for Cal to precede him out the door.

Once outside, Jackson locked up the store. The two men started walking slowly along the sidewalk. Cal pointed ahead. "It's just over the crest up there," he said.

Jackson nodded. "Nice morning for a stroll," he commented. After a moment, he continued, "We don't know each other. You look at me and see an old man."

Cal started to say, "Well, it's just ..."

Jackson stopped walking and stood leaning on his cane. He held up his other hand to stop Cal from coming up with a response. "I don't like to admit it," he said, "but it's what I am. What you don't see is the experiences I've had. My body doesn't work as well as it used to. I have to accept that." He paused, then said in a confiding tone, "I'm still working on that, actually."

Cal gave him a smile. Jackson started forward again.

"Ah, let's go on," he said. "What I'm saying is, I've driven a lot of cars and some of them weren't in tiptop condition by the time I got 'em. So I might be able to figure out the problem you're having."

"But why are you bothering? Like you said, we don't know each other?" Cal asked.

"When people need help, you help them," Jackson said. "That's what I've always thought, anyhow. My newspaper will still be waiting for me when I get back. It wasn't urgent."

"I, uh, I appreciate it," Cal said, looking a bit uncomfortable.

Jackson waved it off. "Ah, wait to see if I have any good advice before thanking me," he said.

After that, Cal was quiet until they were approaching his car. "Here it is," he said, indicating a small light blue car with a dull finish, rusting door panels, and a cracked brake light cover.

Through the window, Jackson saw clothes piled on top of boxes sitting in the backseat. He said to Cal, "Pop the hood. I wish I had thought to grab a rag."

"Oh, I've got one," Cal said, opening the car door. He reached under the front seat and produced a rag. Then he pulled the lever to release the hood. Moving to the front of the car, he put his hand under the front edge of the hood and grimaced. Using the rag to protect his hand, he lifted the hood and propped it open.

"Still a bit hot?" Jackson asked.

"Yeah, a bit," Cal said.

Jackson moved to stand next to Cal. He checked the hoses for wear, pointing out to Cal that they looked okay. He leaned in to get a good look at the radiator system and grunted. He straightened up and looked at Cal. "I'm sorry, son," he said, shaking his head. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say the water pump needs to be replaced. Just adding fluid wouldn't be any more than a very temporary fix."

Cal looked grim at this news. "I can't afford a repair like that," he said.

"Well, is there somebody you could call?" Jackson asked. "Your parents?"

Cal rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I can't call them. I think I'll have to try adding water and see if that will work after all."

Jackson tilted his head and looked at Cal, considering. Then he said, "Tell you what. You come back to the store, get a snack, something to drink. Give me a minute to think what we can do."

Cal protested, "What do you mean, what we can do? It's my car. It's my problem."

"You're right. It is. Stopping to have some breakfast isn't going to make it any worse, though, right?"

"Yeah, but I don't really-"

"On the house," Jackson said.

"I can't let you-"

"Yes, you can."

"Do you ever let people finish a sentence?" Cal asked.

"Once in a while. Come back to the store and I'll let you talk all you want."

Cal closed the hood and sighed. "All right," he said.

The two men walked back to the general store without much conversation. Back at the store, Jackson said, "It's not much of a breakfast, but I have fruit and cereal bars and juice. The coffee's still fresh. Help yourself. Sometimes things look better after eating. Something to do with blood sugar, I imagine."

Cal looked at him dubiously. Jackson smiled back. "My son never admitted I was right about that either. Now he's always bugging me about making sure I eat. Don't worry. I'm used to looks like that."

Cal accepted Jackson's offer of food and the two men sat down. After a few minutes of silence, Jackson said, "I said I'd let you talk. Now's your chance."

"I, I don't really have anything to say. I don't know what I'm going to do now. I was counting on ... I mean, I can't afford to fix my car, but, then, I can't afford not to."

"You got somewhere you need to be? A deadline, timetable, something?" Jackson asked.

Cal hesitated before answering. "I'm moving. I've got an ... opportunity, ... a job ... a guy offered me, but if I can't get there-" Cal shook his head.

"This a good job?" Jackson asked.

"What do you-" Cal started, then stopped and took a breath, before saying, "It gets me out and that's what I want, so I'll take it."

"Okay," Jackson said, nodding. "Like you said, this is your problem. People like to come into the store here and talk about their problems. I've gotten in the habit of giving advice. If you don't want me to, I'll butt out."

Cal looked at Jackson. "I guess it won't hurt to listen," he said.

"No," Jackson said. "No charge either."

Cal smiled. "Go ahead, then," he said.

"Well, it doesn't sound like you're on your way to your dream job or that you need to get back to a family," Jackson stopped and looked at Cal for confirmation.

Cal shook his head.

Jackson continued, "You need to get your car fixed and to do that you need some money. To get money you need a job, but for the job you're headed for, you need the car. So, right now, it's a loop you can't get out of. You said something before about opportunity, though. Maybe I can offer you one."

"Why?" Cal asked.

"Life doesn't always go as planned. Sometimes you have to take a chance when the opportunity arises."

"Who's taking the chance? You or me?"

"Both of us," Jackson said.

"What are you talking about?"

"I've had this store over forty years now," Jackson said. "It was something we took a chance on, ... but that's a long story. The community depends on it, but it would be nice if we could do more."

"So you're offering me a job in the store?"

"I'm thinking about it."

"Sweeping floors, stocking shelves, that sort of thing?" Cal asked.

Jackson looked at him. "There'd be some of that, yes, but I meant what I said about providing more services to the community."

"Like what?"

"I'm not the only one in the community that's getting older. Some people could use a delivery service for their groceries."

"I knock on your door and you just decide you need to hire someone?"

"No, this is something I've thought about before," Jackson said. "You coming in just gave me the opportunity to do it."

"But why would you hire me off the street? Why would you trust me?" Cal asked.

"Not much of a world if people don't trust one another sometimes. People need to be willing to help each other. Sometimes you need help, and sometimes you'll be the one doing the helping. I'm doing this to remind myself who I am."

Cal looked at Jackson for a minute, considering. "Deliveries and stocking, huh?" he said.

Jackson nodded. "Maybe your fresh eyes can see other things we could try, too," he said.

"You'd let me decide how to run your store?" Cal asked.

Jackson corrected him, "I'd let you make suggestions. I'd decide."

Cal smiled. "It sounds almost too good to be true."

Jackson smiled back and shook his head. "It's not. Running a store in a small town has good parts and bad parts. You think you want to give it a try, though?"

Cal took in a breath. "I'd still need to get my car fixed to do deliveries."

"Yep. I know a mechanic. In the meantime, I've got a truck that still has a few miles left on it."

"You really mean it?" Cal asked.

"I do," Jackson said.

"Okay then," Cal said.

Jackson gave a nod. "We'll need to get your stuff out of your car and call Frank to get it towed. You can leave your stuff in the back here and after work, we'll run it over to the motel till you find a place to live. I guess I sound like I'm running your life again, but how's that for a plan?"

Cal looked somewhat bewildered at Jackson's proposal. He said, "After work? You want me to start today?"

"Got somewhere else to be?" Jackson asked with a smile.

"I guess not," Cal said, standing up and offering Jackson a handshake. "I'm ready."


End file.
